wyrmrestfandomcom-20200216-history
Archive:All That We Leave Behind
She hated this place. It scared her, and she wanted nothing more but to turn and run back to Silvermoon. But she had to be here, she knew that, Laurant continuous reminded herself. This was her duty, this was what she had signed on for. Kaido lead Laurant, Sarandal, Math, and Izosia into the area with the intent to collect intelligence and to scout out the areas closest to Quel’thalas, with orders to identify a location for a forward base in the area. Each had been specifically asked, and had been told that if they declined, there would be no shame. Each had accepted the mission, and were now well into the Plaguelands. None were happy to be here, but knew what they did could very well mean the long-term survival for their people. The mission itself wasn’t a surprise, nor anything new that hadn’t been tried before. Simply that Quel’Thalas was now urging it’s most capable warriors (what those who hadn’t been sent to Northrend that was) in earnest to try to make a dent in the Scourge-infested lands to the south before they erupted from Deatholme and once again flooded the forests outside of the city walls. As such, the Ninth had been ordered to send out a scouting party, and here they were. The scouting party, who were trying to keep their individual heads despite the packs of plaguehounds and bats that roamed, trying to sniff out any source of fresh meat. Laurant wasn’t quite sure if she would be able to keep herself from panicking, but she had done a good enough job so far. All around her she could sense were the undead, those called the Scourge. Although, from what Kaido had told the group, there were much less here than usual, and wasn’t that suspicious? Laurant didn’t mind the lack of Scourge, although she did wonder, if they weren’t here, where were they? Even as sad as it was to admit, no one had made that much of a dent in the ghoulish masses to make much of a difference, at least not lately. As they continued to scout, looking for an ideal spot for their forward base, Laurant could feel the tell tale prickling of her skin that occurred whenever undead were nearby. She heard the others speaking up ahead, and Kaido was giving out directions to each individual, which Laurant barely heard, but just enough to obey. It was difficult to concentrate on anything other than the unsettling feeling that was growing in the pit of her stomach. “Knight Laurant!” shouted Kaido, suddenly snapping her out of deep thought. “Any idea how to clear these ghosts here out of this tower?” he asked as he pointed back to the regiment of Forsaken ghosts, who appeared to be lined up in rank and file order at the base of the decrepit look out post. Tilting her head to the side, Laurant took a few minutes to think his question over. Sure, the ghosts could be exorcised, but there was no telling what would happen to the spirits. They could be freed, or they could simply be sent into the nether, where they’d continue to exist in an absolute void. And very few ever deserved such a punishment as that. “I’m not sure if there is anything we can do at this time Sir,” Laurant replied, glancing over the ghosts, lined up in a neat row, “I would say that the only thing that could help send them on is to help them complete their mission. It appears to me as though that is what they are trying to do.” Her statement wasn’t a fact, and she knew it. It was only a guess, based off of other guesses that she had read in the various tomes and texts that she had been perusing lately. “And, I would guess that they are trying to secure this tower, just as we are, and will continue to do so until these no longer see a need for it,” Laurant continued. That ‘need’ she spoke of, referred to the presence of the scourge here, and everyone knew what that meant – the ghosts would be here for quite some time to come. Kaido nodded, turned, and lead the group on to scout out more potential locations. Another tower, at which the same ghosts showed up to later (one might almost think they were defending the tower from the group itself), a Quel’dorei lodge (which had some possibilities, but it was decided the force of high elves there were too high in number), and yet more, each one which was found to be unsuitable in some way or another. When the group finally stopped at one last tower, which seemed to be of no interested to anything living, or un-living, Kaido, Math and Izosia went up to scout it out, leaving Laurant and Sarandal at the base of the hill to guard the bridge, in case enemies scented the lot of them and decided to do something about it. Sarandal and Laurant stood guard over the bridge for quite some time, every now and then, changing places. The entire affair was uneventful, and try as she might, Laurant’s attention began to drift. She counted the number of leaves left on the trees, which were very few, then the number of grubs she saw crawling up and down the dried up creek, which were in much larger numbers than the leaves. Her eyes continued to wander, until she caught sight of something glimmering from the floor of the bridge, at the point where the wood met the earth. Bending over to see what it was, she heard a small bell ringing softly as the bridge groaned under the shifting weight. A bell? Laurant thought, how odd. Pushing her fingers through a crack in the wood created by the decay, she felt around, curling her finger until it caught on the object, causing the bell to jingle more vigorously this time. Pulling it up through the crack, she examined it, and startled in surprise. It was a small collar, made of worn leather, with a tiny tarnished silver bell hanging from a loop attached to it. Turning the item in her hands, she could see that someone had scrawled something into the collar, what she could only assume was a name of some sort. However, the letters and words were sadly in what appeared to be the human common tongue. Turning to show the collar to Sarandal, Laurant froze in midstep, the hairs on the back of her neck rising as she became light headed. Thrusting out a hand, she grabbed the side of the bridge, her stomach turning over, threatening to push her supper up her throat. “Laur?” she could hear Sarandal’s voice behind her, “You alright?” Laurant nodded vigorously, taking in successive deep breaths. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her hands flexed around the collar, and small, brief impressions flooded her mind, the feeling so similar to that day with Mother Azkur in Hillsbrad. She could suddenly feel what it had been like to live here, to be a mother, living with her husband in one of the now decrepit cottages. Seeing her husband arriving home from working the fields, and her daughter playing with a small white kitten in the garden that lay off to the side. Her husband came to the door and kissed her, his hands gripping her waist as she entwined her arms around his neck, returning the kiss. It still felt the same as the day they were married. And then, she felt ill again, her vision blurring. Something was building inside of her, burning, painful, and hungry. Her husband held their daughter, looking back at her as she laid in the bed, writhing, wanting them to run, but also wanting to dig her fingers into their flesh and… They were getting ready to run, to flee the plague that had infected all of their neighbors. Her husband lit a torch before he carried their daughter out the doorway, the small kitten that her daughter had been playing with that day not so long ago wrapped in her daughter’s arms. It screeched loudly as her husband held up the torch, the sounds making Laurant’s head wanting to burst open. It hurt so badly, she just wished her daughter could shut the damn thing up. Soon, the cottage was burning. She could no longer see her husband and daughter, but she heard them outside, her daughter crying. As a mother, she wanted to go to her sweet little girl, hold her and tell her to be brave, but all she could do was lay there in the bed, waiting for the flames to kill her before this damn plague did, hoping that the two things she loved most would find safety. Taking in a deep breath, Laurant stumbled forward, hunched over. She hoped that Sarandal hadn’t seen that, for it certainly would lead to some questions that she wasn’t sure there were answers to. Looking down, Laurant saw the kitten’s collar still in her hand, the silver bell jingling. “It’s time to go,” Kaido’s voice carried down the hill. Laurant turned, and saw the four gathering up behind her, preparing to return to Silvermoon. Nodding, she crossed back over the bridge towards them, quickly stuffing the collar into her pocket. They marched back to Silvermoon, while Kaido discussed future plans for other missions into the Plaguelands. Laurant reminded quiet until they reached the border to Quel’thalas, looking over her shoulder once before they each went their separate ways. ---- Swinging herself beneath the bridge, Laurant’s hands shook as she moved around the debris that had collected there. What she was on, was a suicidal mission. If anyone ever found her body, for she was surely going to die here, they’d wonder why she had come back alone. The truth of it certainly wouldn’t be believed. Whistling as she had seen others do, she hoped that what she was looking for would hear it, but only the silence of the Plaguelands answered her coupled with the groans of the nearby ghouls. This was stupid, she should just leave. There was no possible chance that – and then, she heard a meow from behind a stack of wood. Reaching in, she groped around until she felt soft, squishy, and fury flesh. Pulling her hands out slowly, she was shocked to see that she had found what she had been looking for… a small, starved, white cat- now fully grown after all these years, and somehow, untouched by plague. Spectre, Laurant told herself. That’s what she decided to call her new pet, cradling it in her arms, just as that little girl had, for it certainly must be some sort of a ghost, and shouldn’t exist. That life could exist here still, simply amazing. Turning, Laurant crawled up the hill, digging the fingers from her free hand into the earth. Once she reached the road, she glanced around, spying no scourge in her path. Praying that this miracle would continue, Laurant began to run back towards Silvermoon. Category:Archived Stories